


Celebrating

by Dafuq



Category: Marvel (Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:18:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dafuq/pseuds/Dafuq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the band of heroes return from a successful journey, Loki realizes that he is sorely underestimated. Thor shows up to prove to him that Loki deserves to enjoy the celebrations just as much as anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebrating

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I guess I should clarify that this story is slightly AU. The time frame's a bit jumbled up, but if i had to give it a setting, its right after the incident with Jotunheim, but instead of Thor Immediately getting banished to Midguard, lets just act like none of that ever happened. This isn't my first try at pure smut, but it is defiantly my longest and most detailed. This story is also UNBETA'D and I'm prone to grammatical errors, so if you can get past those, by all means, enjoy.

Full tankards clanked together, as hearty laughs filled the air. The wooden counters were sticky and the floors slick with spilt drink, but it mattered not, for the mead was bountiful. The large barrels nearly covered the far wall of the tiny countryside built tavern. They were going to need them, after all, to help celebrate the grand return of the future king and his noble allies.  

The crowd circled around the elongated table, where the said price was currently seated front and centered, along with Fandral and Volstagg on his right, Hogun and Lady Sif on his left. Thor clasped a broad hand on Fandral shoulder as the younger adventurer told humorous tales pertaining to their journey,

“--And with little thanks to our almighty Thor over here,” He jabbed his thumb over his left shoulder, “the creature nearly had her tail wrapped around my--”

“Need I remind you, it was _you_ who approached the young maiden?” Thor interjected with a chuckle, “T’was no one’s fault, but your own. Be fortunate that we found you before we had any bastard heifers roaming about in the woods.” He patted his back, before taking a generous swig of mead.

Volstagg nudged Fandral’s side lightly, “Aye,” The long bearded warrior turned to the surrounding company, “I, for one, believe the scariest part of this whole quest, was the possibly of him becoming a father.” He barked out a rough laugh when Fandral mimicked him from under his breath.  

As the stories carried on, Loki watched from his own table, located in a secluded corner. The light that was casted from the candle chandelier barely reaching him, encompassing him in near darkness. The forgotten prince was brooding quietly while gradually sipping on the drink before him. He was there. Walked side by side with these so-called heroes of Asguard, he thought irritably. Took the same dangerous paths and struck down the same deadly creatures to get to the same goal. It seems as if it was all for naught.

His thoughts gnawed at him, quickly turning his mood cynical and he had enough. The ebony haired man rose from his spot, the rickety chair squeaking alongside the worn wooden floor, and turned on his heals to exit.

“Brother!” but of course, Loki’s idea of leaving undetected would be quickly crushed. People turned their eyes towards the cold god, but Thor thought nothing of his ominous appearance and he continued, “Come. Join our company. Today is a day of celebration.”

Loki’s icy blue eyes glanced around the room, he almost wanted to snicker. Everyone could see the ominous aura radiating from his person. Even the Warriors of Three were eerily quiet. Their faces were cautiously blank and guarded, whereas just moments ago they showed not a care in the world. Only his oaf of a brother was smiling now, his arms held wide and welcoming for his kin.

“I don’t partake in such menial festivities,” The trickster prince stated sourly, but no less took a step forward into the light. He crossed his arms over his armored torso before snubbing the throng of commoners. He took a bit of pride in seeing the blonde’s spirit deflate as he lowered his welcoming gesture.

Thor let his lips curve into a smirk, “But, alas, here you stand.” He quipped, before promptly turning somber “Must you spoil such a pleasant ceremony for our achievements? These people have been nothing but hospitable towards--”

“Which is why, _dearest_ brother, I was about to make my leave,” He nearly spits out, “But now I am almost tempted to stay, out of spite.”

He takes a moment while he deliberates within himself. In the end, he turns towards the door gracefully and with the flick of his wrist, the candles from above blow out and leave the tavern pitch black. He hums happily to himself, when gasps and shouts fill his ears before he closes the door. Once outside, he latches the entrance closed and makes his way leisurely towards the fortress, thunder growing in the distance as rain started to sprinkle from the sky.

Volstagg’s growl seems to almost amplify in the darkness, “That no good coward. I should wring his neck. That would put him in his place.” Glass broke all around them as scuffs of wood against wood indicated the circle of people removing themselves from their spots to search for a light source. Hushed murmurs reverberated from the walls, worrying and upset.

 Sooner than later, tiny lit candelabras sat upon the tables and the door was quickly pried open. People were steadily calming, while the drinking and celebrating continued, but for Thor, his mood remained ill. He forced a smile, and patted his friends on their shoulders and rewarded Sif with a chaste kiss on her hand, before departing for the night.

* * *

 

Loki entered his dark chambers with a quiet sigh and quickly went to work removing his wet leathered coat, not bothering with his bedside lamp. The bright moon was shining through the high windows, painting the room a pale blue. Very fitting, he mused. Once the jacket was pulled off, he hung it upon a nearby rack to dry, before getting rid of his forearm guards and doing the same with his over shirt. Running his hands through his damp hair, he turned towards his bed lazily. It was too early to retire.

His thoughts drifted back to the inn. The golden son, along with his band of subordinates had been welcomed zealously, given riches and thanks. Loki stood prideful at first, although it was quickly diminished as the day dawdled on. It became apparent that people turned a blind eye to him. How could Asguardians even comprehend that someone as gauntly built as him had taken on full grown beasts? It was a joke.

He snarled as he marched within his room, bed to door, before stopping himself in front of a huge elaborate mirror. He gazed at his reflection, taking small steps forward. His brows were creased slightly and his lips were pursed into a thin line, cheeks hollowed. He noted the silky smooth pale skin and cerulean eyes: A normal Asguardian. He wanted to spit, as he allowed his form to change. Slowly, the pasty skin turned icy. The eyes turned a deep blood red, while the markings carvings and bumps began to show upon his body. His true form: A vile Jotun.

 He couldn’t stand to see it for long and he clamped his eyes shut, transforming back into the Asguardian god that depicted himself. It needn’t matter what form he took, for people still saw him as nothing but a monster.

He went over to his side table and turned on the lamp before finally disregarding his undershirt, leaving him in nothing but his leather pants and boots. He stretched his arms above his head in an attempt to pop his aching muscles, his posture bowing slightly.

Lightning flashed outside his window, the thunder rumbling afterwards and Loki couldn’t help but smile, “Thor, it’s always so easy ruffling your feathers. It’s too bad I didn’t stay to make you livid. It would have been a fun show…” -- _Especially seated amongst all your devoted fans._ Oh, if only he could turn back the time. What would they have thought, if he had turn humbled and merciful Thor into a raging brute. It would have been simple to whisper a few personal jabs into his ear, feigning innocence when he finally snapped. People would look on, scared of their too-be king as Thor would wrapped his thick hands around his throat.

Or… what would they have thought, if instead, he had turn Thor into a quivering mess.

Their hero trying to maintain his composure, as instead of jabs whispered in his ear, t’was naughty insinuations. He was sure to say the right things, maybe daring to lick the shell of his ear, or run a teasing hand up his thigh to test his grounds. Would the god of thunder take it upon himself to be defiled as such? Would he had tried to preserve Odinson’s golden bloodline, or would he have been quick to wield his weapon in defense? Would Loki have given him the choice?

All of these questions sparked new interest within the mischievous god. The thought of Thor kneeling before him as he was stripped from every shred of dignity, head casted downwards like a good pet and his breath stolen from him sent forbidden shivers down Loki’s spine. His mind was rapidly spiraling with newfound desires, newfound wants.

Biting his thin lip in contemplation, he worked it lightly between his teeth. Yet again, his feet propelled him towards the door and back, pacing like a caged lion. He nearly roared when the temptation became too much to bear, and with the final decision, he squared his back and raised his chin in a show of power. A bright blinding green light sparked before him and when it dissipated, the illusion that was displayed before him was breathtaking. A near precise replica of a certain blond sat at his feet. He was bare of any clothing, and his taut muscles glistened with sweat as he pulled helplessly against the tight binds that tied his forearms to his back. His chest was heaving and the prominent bulge that sat between his legs was all but discreet.

Loki couldn’t help but have a sardonic snicker rumble out from his throat as he studied his brother.  The golden hair curtained Thor’s face from view, as if he was genuinely perturbed, and it only made the silver-tongued god want to laugh even more. It was a shame that Loki could not grab a fist full of his hair and yank his face upwards to meet his. Sorcery could only achieve so much, but it was all the same, when Loki drawled out Thor’s faux embarrassment a tad bit longer.

Without a sound, the raven haired trickster wasted no time hurrying towards the bed, cautious not to break the illusion, when he fully noted his own blatant arousal pushing against the fabric. He sighed as he lowered himself on the edge of the mattress and spread his legs slowly, the leather stretching tighter.

“Look at me,” came Loki’s soft demand, knowing it would be executed, “Look at what you do to me.” He wasted no time, laying emphasis on his aching erection as he lightly kneaded himself through the dark pants, along with situating himself within the confines of his breeches. His fingers gently ghosted over the base when Thor’s mirrored image glanced up. Loki, even knowing that this particular scene was going to be portrayed, couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped him.

The thunder god’s mouth was gagged firmly with a dark red ball, his eyes bright with lust. The blond shifted his position on the floor trying to alleviate the tension between his legs as he desperately thrust into the air. His erected cock was bobbing desperately, a bead of pre-cum forming at the slit: No doubt, begging to be sucked on. The Aesir’s prick was unfortunately left purely to Loki’s imagination, but it mattered not, for the younger prince’s attention was captivated on the copy’s face. Even the mere thought, let alone the view, was quickly doing its job of driving Loki mad.

Nimble fingers brushed against the outline of his growing erection, trailing teasingly from base to tip. Loki shifted in his spot, the wondrous friction causing his breath to hitch and his eyes to flutter shut. From under his dark lashes, he gazed back at his bothers placement on the floor. It didn’t take much thought, before the gag vanished in a puff of green smoke.

“Brother… Loki, please.” The copy wasted no time in moaning out, the sound reverberating off the high walls.

“Oh, _fuck_.” The voice was, of course, a flawless duplication. Gentle touches turned nearly frantic as Loki worked open his pants just enough to release him from his confines. Once freed, the raven haired god stilled his hasty movements, if but for a moment, to gaze back upon his pseudo captive yet again. Thor gazed upon the newly exposed flesh and the muscles lining his stomach tightened as his inhaled.

Loki’s head cocked to the side, a lazy smile gracing his features, “Thor. If only you could see your dearest baby brother now,” He licked his thin lips, “I bet it wouldn’t be this easy to get you on your knees. Begging for me.” His cool fingers wrapped around himself and a shudder raked throughout his body. It didn’t take him long to set a slow and leisured pace.

“Say it. Say my name.” Loki’s voice was thick and heavy with want as he stared down. Blue eyes clashed with blue.

“Loki.”

Loki pumped his cock once. It sent yet another shiver down his spine, and the silver-tongued hissed, “Again. Over and over. Come on.” He gritted out.

“Loki. Loki, oh gods. Loki. Loki. Loki.” Thor continued to groan out, like a mantra. With each growl of his name, Loki pumped. Light touches, not near enough to satisfy himself. He wanted to draw this out. It was after all, his own way of commemorating his triumphant journey.

He released his grip long enough to cast another enchantment, replacing the ball gag to silence the blond, “Enough.” He bent his leg and placed it upon the bed, careful not to constrict himself. Grabbing the heel of his leather boot to remove, he tugged and threw it towards the door. Once removed, he repeated his actions and was soon left barefooted. He then stood from his spot on the edge of the bed and went to work removing his breeches.

It wasn’t often that the god of mischief resorted to petty masturbation. With the ability to charm and worm his way into anyone’s chambers, why would he? He probably could have even achieved a burly blond oaf for his sick new fantasies. But he didn’t want just anyone. To him, they were all nothing but filthy parasites. No. He was a prince, and a prince deserved the best of the best.

Now bare of all clothing, Loki propped a decorative pillow against the headboard and leaned against it, turning his attention back to the blond. Gripping firmly at the base of his cock, he stroked in time with his labored breathing. He stared daggers at the sight before him, never once diverting his attention while Thor continued to writhe. Knowing good and well that this steady pace would eventually achieve completion, he contemplated going further. Ultimately, the temptation became too great and the raven haired groaned out.

Placing the pads of his fingertips on his lips, his tongue darted out briefly to taste before he went further. Clamping his wet mouth down on his index and middle finger, he closed his eyes as his tongue danced and coated his digits. It was easy to fall prey to that which is lust. His mind played vivid dreams for him, turning his digits to something more. Something thicker and heavier. _Thor._

With a breathless whimper, Loki released his fingers. He wasted no time, placing feather-light touches to the tip of his uncut head. Watching, as the saliva mixed with the drop of pre-cum, he pulled his finger back briefly, a thread formed.

“Mmm,” his attention yet again diverted, “Care to taste?” He huffed out a tiny chuckle as he pointed his index finger towards the replica, still positioned helplessly on the floor. He shrugged when he got no immediate response and raised the digit to his mouth. Hesitating only briefly, he licked the excess fluid from off his fingers, before repeating the action of teasing the head of his penis, the cooling saliva adding to the sensation. Thor growled around the gag, and Loki’s body rent rigid in response.

With a quick nod, the bounds were vanished. The duplicate wasted no time in reaching up to remove the tightly secured ball gag. Once divested of the leathered mouthpiece, he rose gracefully to his feet to stare down at the younger god spread before him.

This is how Loki imagined the real Thor to look upon him; all fiery hate mixed with confusion. The unblinking gaze was nearly was too real. It was as if his own fabrication was scrutinizing him, boring dark eyes directly into his own. Loki shifted underneath the weight of the stare, all of it almost too much to bear. Just when he was about to disperse the fantasy completely, the copy blinked, the hate disappeared and was replaced once again with unadulterated need. His hand wrapped around his own erection and wasted no time in picking up the speed. Grunts of approval and huffs of pleasure escaped his mouth, mixing with the chants of Loki’s name.

Watching the sight playing out before him quickly had the mischievous god eager to partake. Slicking himself with the rest of the spittle that was quickly drying, he unceremoniously spat into the palm of his hand, grimacing at the act once he realized how quickly he was losing control. But his thoughts became lost to him as he stroked himself with one hand, slick and obscene, while the other ghosted over his perineum silently daring himself to go further. It’s not as if he hasn’t. When he _did_ copulate, He was notorious for bedding those that were sure to deface the name of Odinson; Ones that kept him on his toes, fought him with teeth, blood, and bone. Just like the battlefield. Once coming out victoriously, he would finally breach them, the act of taking what was his more than satisfying. He even dared to play fair when it was him on his knees, knowing the pleasure that came with vandalizing the king of Asguard.

Resituating himself, he bent his knees to place his feet on the bed, spreading out lewdly to get better access. A faint moan escaped the bearded man standing before him, reminding Loki of his presence. Thor’s eyes were casted downwards, seemingly mesmerized by the site before him, his breath hitching in his throat, as pale and slender fingers finally touched the puckered flesh.

Loki’s lithe body arched off the bed, as he teased his tight opening, the opposite hand never faltering from the continuous stroking. He was beginning to leak, the flesh in his hand painfully hard now.

No. It wasn’t time, yet. He wanted to draw this out a bit longer.

Halting his movements, he focused his attention on the slick digit circling the flesh at his entrance. He held his breath as he slowly pushed in, enjoying the feeling of being beached. Pushing in until he was two knuckles deep, he shuddered as his muscles contracted. The pulse around his digit was enough to have him rutting into his palm.

“So _good_.” He gritted out through perfectly white teeth, his jaw clenching painfully hard. Pleasure raked over his body, and his Adam’s apple bobbed with dry swallows of air. His legs fell apart, leaving him spread eagle on the dark green duvet. His single index finger pistoning within him, it hooked once fully sheathed to push against his prostate.

He was quickly reaching the tipping point; blue eyes captured blue, and he panted out, needy and raspy. He wanted this, more than anything.

“Thor… Please.” He permitted himself to get lost in the fantasy, thrashing his head quickly to the other side, allowing his moans to escalate. They filled the air with sounds of fervent desire.

What happened next was instantaneous.

* * *

 

The light pitter-patter sound of rain hit the ground and distant thunder surrounded Thor, as the lighted pathways guided his way back to the palace. Countryside villages turned into wealthy elaborated houses and building, nearly all coated with the plethora of gold. Asguard was certainly a sight to behold.

Thor thought about the triumphant journey as he walked beneath the thunderous night sky. It was painfully apparent just how much his mischievous little brother relished the act of combat. When Loki fought, he fought dirty, but in no means, did he do it gracelessly. It’s where he shined most, in Thor’s opinion. He would wind an elegant web around his captive before darting in for the kill, playing tricks in his favor to achieve success. It was captivating to watch, when he was not the one entangled in said web.

Of course, Loki mood turned sour once they had reached the Bifrost. The gratifying taste of victory now lost to him, replaced with bitter hatred. Thor marveled at how quick his brother’s wicked smile could turn down into a sickening scowl. He had deserved to bask in the afterglow of triumph with the rest of his group, but once Loki became aggravated, trying to get him to do so was moot.

Irritation itched at the thunder god’s skin as he thought back to the tavern. Why ruin a perfectly good celebration? His brother chose to seclude himself in the back, and when Thor pulled him aside to explain to him that he deserved the spotlight with the rest of the group, Loki merely scoffed as if Thor had jested.

When Thor reached the great halls of the palace, he leisurely padded his way down the barren hallways, his feet guiding him towards his chambers. Once he reached it and his broad hand reached out to open the doors, his lips pursed into a tight frown and his brows furrowed. He wanted to enjoy himself and be merry. He wanted to celebrate the achievements made, and if the only way to achieve fulfillment was to get his brother to join in, then by the gods, he would try.

With renowned vigor, he paraded through the halls, to get to his set destination of his brothers bed chambers. Even if his brothers’ idea of a good time was sparring, Thor would willingly do so. Anything to rekindle the spirits, and keep him from niggling feeling that now resided at the pit of his stomach.

When he came upon the dimmed hallway that steered him towards his bothers tall doors, the pin-prickling feeling rose again, nervousness now making itself known as he hesitated going further. What if his presence was particularly unwanted? When Loki’s attitude turned foul, Thor was no exception to the unpredictable whirlwind of emotions. Even so, It didn’t take him long to continue carrying forward. Thor was anything but a weakling and he was willing to face the brunt force of Loki’s wrath, if necessary.

 Barging through the highly risen entrance, a forced smile tugging tightly at the corner of his lightly bearded face, he bellowed out,

“Brother! I was-”

Loki’s desperate cries caught in his throat, as wild eyes darted towards his doorway, watching as Thor skidded in his tracks and azure eyes widened. Loki’s sweat slicked legs clamped shut, fastening his narrow wrist in place. The single digit that was buried deep inside froze, terrified that removing it would draw attention. It was too late.

Thor’s gaze was transfixed on the scene that was splayed out in front of him, eyes traveling about the room at frightening speed, trying to take it all in.  His brother bare and damp was curled protectively upon the disheveled bed. Standing before him was an image of a certain blond replica, oblivious of everything taking place around him, as he continued to rut into his closed fist. The scene had his heart pounding in his ears, and his boots glued to the marble flooring.    

Their eyes met, emotions flickering over their expressions like lightening; Confusion, fear, dread, desire, embarrassment.

 “Shit,” the raven haired all but whispered. Popping out of his stupor, the hand that was wrapped around his erection released him and with the wet snap of his fingers the artificial scene dissipated. With the absence of the illusion, it seemed to have turned the current situation even more mind-numbingly intimate.

  “Loki-I was just- uh-well, I was-fuck, I meant-” Blood rushed to the golden prince’s face, as he managed to cast his glance upwards while the younger one calmly slipped out his index finger, “By the Norn’s, I honestly-No idea. I am sorry.”  

“Thor…” Loki accentuated before catching his brothers shameful eyes, “Out,” he seethed between his clenched teeth.

It seemed to have done the trick as the burly oaf of a man shuffled backwards. He never turned around, bumping into and knocking down an ebony vase located on the right of the entrance. Odinson blabbered out yet another apology as he closed the door.

Clearly exasperated, Loki growled out, “That buffoon.” Snatching his leather pants from the ground, he jerked his feet through to pull up and cover his now nearly flaccid member, “Of course enjoying myself was too much to ask for.” When it came to the god of thunder, there was no such thing as privacy. On numerous occasions he had made an animated appearance, strutting in as if he owned the place, but never interrupting something so.. carnal.

Making his way to the mess on the floor, he grumbled profanities under his breath. The vase was undoubtedly shattered but the pieces were large enough dispose of barehanded. He was in no mood to waste his sorcery on something as menial as pottery. Scooping the shards into his hands, he turned to pitch them in the nearest bin but before he could do so his door was pushed open. When he glared daggers over his shoulder at the second intruder, his blood boiled with rekindled rage. He quickly pivots on his heels. He has had enough of these foolish games.

 

“For gods’ sake, Thor, I thought I told you to leave me!” He barked out this command, never heeding Thor’s rigid stature, and squared jaw; the unmistakable stance of a determined warrior.

Without a word, the future king invited himself in, the heavy wooden doors falling shut in his wake. Within seconds he was crowding Loki’s vision, so close, the trickster could feel the cool armor as it bumped against his bared chest. Irritation was promptly snuffed, replaced with jarring panic. When had he gotten there?

With Loki now locked in place, Thor took this moment to cup a strong hand against the nape of his neck. The action itself was common among the two brothers, for it was the only act of endearment that Loki silently permitted. But this… _this_ was different. Thick fingers were twined through the dark locks, forcing his head upwards. The unwavering gaze sent a jolt of excitement through his body.

Evidently, all it took was a rough tug for Loki to lose his grip on the broken pieces. The cracking and clanking of ceramic on marble brought Loki back to earth.

“What are you doing, you brute?” He violently twisted his body, trying to escape Thor’s grip on his hair, “What’s this, have you gone daft? Answer me!” he writhed in place before Thor awarded him with another harsh pull that had Loki gasping and arching backwards.

Loki sneered as a smirk played on the thunder gods’ face. All evidence of embarrassment wiped clean, replaced now with a heavy lidded gaze, “don’t feign innocence, brother,” He ducked his head, stopping dangerously close to his captives face, “It suits you ill.”

Before the silver-tongued could retort, Thor ducked down to place a gentle kiss under his stiff jaw. It was almost too tender, given the situation and it had the raven haired god slacking against Thors’ sturdy figure.

 “You dare to act innocent when moments ago I saw you falling apart on nothing but an illusion?” Thor bared his teeth against Loki’s neck before anchoring down, plying the skin lightly with a wet tongue. The action had the trickster inhaling sharply, before Thor released, “An illusion that undoubtedly hit closer to home than I would have previously guessed.”

There was amusement hidden behind that last comment and that was enough to have Loki veering backwards with a sneer, effectively escaping from Thor’s grip, “And? What say you, _future king?_ Come to jest and mock?” He circled cautiously around his brother, while his arms came to fold over his chest to form a barrier.

Temporarily dejected, Thor straightened his back and frowned, “What? No, I-”

“Oh? Wrong, am I? Then perhaps you have come to fuck me like one of your filthy maidens?” Thor’s features tightened and made a move to speak, but the unmistakable flush that graced his cheeks held the all the answers, “Ahh. You’re presumptuous to think that I would so eagerly fall to my knees.” Loki paused to skim over the man that stood before him. Long flaxen hair framed an unshaven face, flowing around his broad shoulders. Vibrant blue eyes were casted downwards, hidden by golden lashes, and his mouth was locked shut, defining his sculpted jawline. He wore his usual armored attire but it did little to hide the thick muscles in his biceps and forearms. He was a perfect representation of masculinity. Not just a visual duplicate.

Loki’s adrenaline surged at the thought of wrecking him once more and blood quickly drained south at the idea. He considered it, before welcoming the new wave of excitement that pooled in his abdomen.

A sly smile replaced his scowl, “On your knees.” The stern order had Thor’s head snapping forward, perplexed. Loki raised a thin brow, “I said on. Your. Knees. Now kneel.”

“What are you going to do?” Warily, he obliged, sinking slowly to the ground. It was amusing, how readily he obeyed his brother’s command. The idea was akin to a young pup baring his belly to an alpha.

Striding up to the thunder god and stopping only inches before him, he snickered when Thor’s gaze fell upon his groin, leather pants still unbuttoned from his previous activities. Activates that, unfortunately, went incomplete. Loki wet his lips absentmindedly before griping that scruffy chin to lock eyes once more.

“I’m going to give us what we both want.” And with that, he bowed forwards and smashed thin lips against plush ones. It was in no means gentle, for the grip on Thor’s chin strengthened, prying his mouth open, so tongues could meet. Teeth clanked harshly while they enjoyed the feeling of tongues sliding together, the flavor of bittersweet mead quickly coating Loki’s taste buds. Thor surged forward, meeting wholeheartedly with a wanton groan. The sound had Loki’s prick stirring with renewed interest. 

Pulling back harshly before the golden-haired god could take initiative, he rose to tower over his brother. The keen response he received was enough incentive to carry onwards, “Look at you. Already so responsive.” The silver-tongued god rubbed a palm roughly against the stirring flesh located in his breeches, “But I guess I’m one to talk.”  

Thor gulped and his heart hammered loudly in his ears as he took in the sight that was displayed before him; a lust driven Loki, onyx hair wavy and ruffled from Thor’s grip earlier and piercing icy eyes that were blown nearly black.  This was definitely not how he had imagined this evening would turn out. Now, he knelt, wanting and waiting for what was yet to come, nearly a full erection straining against his armor. His mouth defied him, for when words rose in his throat they were never voiced, dying on his lips every time. 

Loki tilted his head to the side as he squeezed before releasing to take hold of two black belt loops. Thor’s breath stilled as, ever so slowly, the pants were pushed down. When a sliver of dark pubic hair was visible, Loki stopped to situate his front, pulling himself free from the confines of the leather, just as he had done once before. The thunder god stilled and he allowed himself to stare. It was impressively thick, for the foreskin was still covering the head, but a touch of dusky pink peeked out from underneath and he had the urge to pull back the skin to its fullest.

He allowed it to bob in his hands as if testing the weight before stroking once, the head being revealed, “Care to taste?” a wicked grin covered his face at the silent joke. Unlike the replica, who didn’t reply, Thor licked his lips, before catching Loki’s eyes.

“Would you be so cruel as to prevent me from doing so?”

That alone had the younger one gasping, a surge of desire washing away all signs of smugness. Stepping forwards to straddle the blondes’ protruding thighs, he wasted no time in tapping the head of his erection to damp lips, “Open.” Eagerly doing what was said, the other quickly pulled back to emphasize his next command with the flutter of his fingertips, “And no touching.”

Thor replied by leaning in and taking the tip into his mouth. A moan escaped Loki’s mouth and instantly his hands were knotted into golden hair, much like what was done to him earlier, and without warning, drove himself in deep. Too deep, for it had the other gagging instantly around the impaling shaft, Thor’s sound of displeasure vibrating around him. It did nothing but spur him on, the wet hot constriction against his sensitive flesh was undeniably incredible. Thrusting in painfully hard two more times, he slowed down on the third to admire the sight. Staring down at the teary eyes, he slowly slid in, watching intently as his erection disappeared into the pliable mouth.  Mindful of canines, Thor’s tongue swirled around the base, encasing him and dragging him deeper. He hit a bit of resistance when he reached the back of the raw throat but with a slightly harder nudge, he was gliding all the way in again. He stilled to marvel at the feeling.

“ _Fuck_.” He all but jerked out, allowing air to fill his coughing brothers’ lungs desperately. He huffed as he wrapped a fist around his slicked arousal to tease himself in short strokes as he talked, “What would the king of Asguard say if he were to witness this; you taking cock so willingly. And from your own _brother,_ no less. I would have never guessed you to be so enthusiastic otherwise I would have done this, oh gods, centuries ago.”  The hand he left in Thor’s hair tightened and he pulled his face upwards. Another groan escaped the tricksters as he noted the gods lips shined with spit.

“You really do make a fantastic whore” he bent to lick his bottom lip before rising yet again, the head pushing against the opening once more, “Come on, suck.”

Thor opened once more, and braced himself for the piercing jab. He just barely contained his thankful sigh when he realized that it never came. Instead, Loki held still, giving him the gratification of taking his time. Once more, he slid his eyes shut and craned his neck forwards, engulfing the ramrod heat. Swirling a tongue around the tip, he dipped under the skin, the salty taste more potent as he lapped at the head. Harsh breathing filled the air when he took in more, stopping halfway to lick the underside before slightly shifting his position to get a better angle. Experimentally the god sucked, the hard flesh pulsing under the menstruation, earning him a whimper from up above. He dipped forwards to take more, before ever so slowly receding, taking his time to map each vein.

Tenderly scrapping dull nails into the back of golden hair, Loki smiled softly as he watched Thor’s head bob fervently, “Good. Good, brother. You’re doing exceptionally well,” He grunted in satisfaction before continuing, “Perhaps this isn’t the first time you’ve been on your knees.”

It was meant to be a cruel jab to the Aesir god, but it only had him humming in response. Unbeknownst to the silver-tongued, Thor had copious amount of experience in bedding men, as well as women. With more than a few thousand years to spare and practice making perfection, he’d like to think of himself as an expert in both departments. He considered himself to be an advocate lover, willing to partake in just about anything.

“No- Stop.” Loki pulled back and out of Thor’s mouth with a wet pop and a shudder raked his body at the sound while he gathered his nerves, “Not like this.”

With that being said, he released his grip on his flaxen tresses to remove the rest of his breeches before turning and making his way to his disheveled bed. The thunder prince got a pleasing view of his brother’s backside as he sauntered away, the opaque skin tinting blue against the moonlight. It was almost uncanny how the beams splayed against the mattress like a spotlight, and showcased in the center; the exposed host.

   “Strip.” Loki sneered at him.

Picking himself up from off the hard floor, he did what was said; divesting his armor and cape, followed by his under armor, and eventually his leather pants. As he stood before the trickster, muscles flexed briefly while he allowed himself to be studied.

Loki was mildly surprised when his gaze fell upon a swelling erection, “circumcised?” even so, Thor’s girth and size was impressive for it was slightly longer than his own.

“Does this bother you?” he questioned. His stance remained unwavering while he awaited an answer. The younger god seemed to ponder for a moment and instead of receiving a response, the trickster smirked and waved him over. Stopping at Loki’s bedside, his breath hitched while he watched his brother plant his heels on his bed to spread his legs.

 Splaying his thighs painfully wide, the raven haired god took hold of his arousal in one hand, while the other went to his mouth to coat a single digit in saliva. Sinful blue eyes darted up to meet equally naughty counterparts, as he wasted little time removing the slick finger to move it south. Mirroring moans echoed within the room as the index finger roughly pushing into his opening.

“Touch yourself.” He gritted out, adding a second digit.

Instantly obeying, Thor wrapped a dry fist around his cock. There was so much going on. All of his senses were on edge, as he watched the scene play out before him. It was so intimate, to expose so much to the one standing before him. Thor wasn’t dense, for he knew that this ironic scene in particular was Loki’s idea of ‘leaving where he left off’ and the mere thought that he would be able to see this through, was mind-blowing.

Rutting upwards and arching off the duvet, Loki whimpered as he skimmed against his prostate, clearly lost within the throes of passion. It was that carnal sound that had the thunder god finally moving on his own accord, releasing himself before crawling upon the bed and resting himself between pale lithe legs. The action was almost disregarded until his broad hands came to grip Loki’s inner thighs, slightly pushing down to widen him further. Snapping his head forwards to glare at the man between his legs, the trickster snarled and removed his hands to prop himself up on his elbows.  

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching as Thor’s wide hands roamed over his thighs, each time getting dangerously close to the sacs that were coiled tight against his groin.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy this moment?” He smirked up as Loki all but glowered. With lightening movements, the trickster lunged forwards, clasping his own smaller hands with Thor’s to pin them above his head, effectively trapping the blond beneath him. Where he belongs. It was meant to be a power play, but it only had Thor’s eyes darkening and licking his lips while he went slack against his captive.

“Not until I consent to it.” He rocked downwards, allowing his rigid cock to skim against Thor’s. His breath stilled as he watched as the thunder god’s head rolled to the side to release a groan of approval. It was like staring into the face of perfection; his hair was cascading around the sheets, his cheeks dusted pink and brows furrowed as his mouth hung open in ecstasy.

“Oh _gods_ , fuck you. Fuck this.” He ground against him in earnest now, as he dipped down. The kiss was chaotic and brash, Loki bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to bruise and puncture. The older prince grunted as the blood was quickly lapped away. All the while, the thrusting never ceased, only dragging them further into oblivion. Only when their sensitive skin began to chafe and burn, did they stop.

Thor pulled his head up and away from Loki’s, “We are in need-”

Without finishing the sentence, Loki pulled back and strung out a mantra of words to materialize a glass oil jar. It was lazy, yes, but he was becoming desperate. Bringing the small jar to his lips, he bit down on the cork to remove it with his teeth. He turned his head to spit out the stopper before turning it over, pouring an excessive amount onto his palm. Some of the cool liquid dripped between his fingers and onto the blonde’s stomach.

Thor smirked as he whipped the oil into his hand. Without any forewarning, he clasped slippery fingers around Loki’s twitching prick. It was enough to have the younger brother doubling over with a cry, the oil temporarily forgotten. His head rested at the crease of the golden god’s neck and shoulder while Thor pumped, his hot puffs of breath making the skin slick with sweat.

“Please… Thor. _Stop_.” He ground out, “Stop, or I’m going to come.” He hated how desperate he sounded. It was supposed to be Thor, wrapped around his fingers, not the other way around.

All movements were halted save for the harsh breathing and Thor took this time to cup a hand behind Loki’s neck and guide him forwards to initiate another kiss. Loki grudgingly accepted it. This one was lazily deep, tongues almost caressing one another before pulling back to repeat the action.

Falling back and releasing his grip, Thor’s smile was tender, “So gorgeous. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His husky voice was but a whisper. He reached up to pluck a wavy strand of ebony hair, tucking it behind his ear and away from the stunned face.

The slap was sharp, echoing loudly against the walls. Anger radiated from the younger prince as he towered over the blond. His palm stung and Thor’s cheek was quickly reddening. His head was still turned, as wide sapphire eyes were blank and dazed.

“I am nothing of the sort. I am not, nor will I ever be some fair _maiden_ for you to court. I don’t require such sentiment.”

Without a word, they sat. Thor knew better than to try and resolve it, for the action would only anger the mischievous one before him, but he was unable to think of something neutral to say in its place. Thor was sure that the fiery god was going to retreat, the air now thick with tension, but Loki was quick at expelling those doubts. His hand that was still slick with oil wrapped around the base of a welting arousal. Pumping and stroking, he bent down to flick a wet tongue against a dusty pink nipple making it pebble at the attention before turning to the other. His dark hair tickled as it ghosted over the sculpted chest. The idea of his brother trying to reconcile the situation was enough to get the blood pumping in Thor’s veins once more.

Once fully erect, Loki released him to coat his own puckered opening with the remaining oil.

“I’ve hoped you’ve learned your lesson, _dear_ brother, for I’m the one in charge.” Parting his round cheeks with one hand, and lined up Thor’s erection. He pushed down, allowing the head of Thor’s penis to nudge against the ring of muscle, “You. Are. Mine.”

He sunk all the way down, encompassing the ramrod cock deep inside him. It filled him to the brim, pulsing against his insides as he attempted to wait patiently for the piercing pain to subside. He planted his hands on the thunder gods’ abdomen, his thighs shaking with the effort to relax his muscles, but it seemed it mattered not, for the pain only gave him incentive to continue onwards. Pushing up and out until only the head was buried in him, he rocked his body down.

“Oh by the Norn’s, it’s so tight, Loki.” Thor seethed out as his hands came to latch onto his pointed kneecaps willing himself to remain still while he was ridden. This was undoubtedly a test, for even though it was Loki being penetrated, he was in no means, being taken. He was dominating, and he sought for Thor’s submission.

Toes curled while he watched the silver-tongued unravel before him, grunts slowly turning into moans, his body taut and stung out like a cord while his untouched cock bounced freely. The hands that were still rested upon his stomach twitched and subconsciously began to rub circles with his thumbs. It all became too much for Thor to watch when nimble fingers went to grasp the leaking erection. He clenched his eyes shut, and concentrated on evening out his breathing.

“Thor,” Loki whined, “I’m- _ah_ -not going to last. Much-much longer.”  

“Good”, With that, all resolute seemed to dissipate, Thor snapping his hips forwards, earning a gasp followed by a slight yelp. Unrelenting, he pistoned into his brother, the speed so unforgiving that the slap of skin against skin was harsh. The angle was precise, for each thrust effectively brushed against the oversensitive prostate.  With a final pitched cry and his muscles pulling tight, Loki came, his cock pulsing as thick ropes of hot cum coated Thor’s chest. The Aesir stilled, mesmerized as the scene.

Choosing to use Loki’s sated afterglow to his advantage, the thunder god flipped them, disregarding the tiny bark of disapproval when he trapped his brothers’ arms underneath him. Wasting little time, he started driving into the trembling opening. Picking up speed and rutting into the body beneath him, eager to reach his own completion. All it took, was Loki’s wet tongue tracing the shell of his ear a two rasping words,

“Fuck me.”

 Growling out, he slammed up, never once reducing his speed while he came. His prick was milked by the tight ass that held him captive, as he leaned town to steal one more kiss, riding out his orgasm.

He gently pulled out with a soft wince, knowing that, even though the idea of staying inside his brother was more than inviting, Loki would find the action irksome. Flopping onto his back, to lay side by side with the grumbling prince, he released a breathless chuckle,

 “Oh, come now, was that not satisfying?” The question was already answered, for the evidence was still lying upon his chest, sticky and cool. Nonetheless, he wasn’t surprised when Loki ignored the question.

“You do realize you have just bedded your own _brother_.” The statement was meant to offend, but his voice was still rough and lazy.

Thor let out a barking laugh as he craned his neck towards the raven-haired trickster, “Then let’s consider this an honorary achievement,” his smile faded, “When our journeys are successful, you deserve to be awarded with the rest of us... but if you will not accept the offers of others, I’ll just have to start honoring you myself.” He smirked as Loki scoffed. The paled god gripped the rumpled duvet and threw it over his body as he turned his back to the thunder god and closed his eyes.

“Good luck with that.”

 

End


End file.
